Change in Perspective :: Personal Narrative Abercrombie Papers

Change in Perspective Saturday morning, time to blow through Friday's paycheck at the mall.After entering through the massive glass doors into Summerset Plaza, I am overwhelmed with the sheer size and exquisite detail of the structure.Marble covers the walls and flooring while the ceiling is masked in a network of geometric arcs that support the giant pieces of glass creating a gigantic skylight.Walking further towards my favorite store, I pass through the center of the mall where lies an elegant marble fountain with perfect symmetry pouring water off in all directions.From here all three main wings and the three stories on each wing are visible.There are more stores than I would ever want to enter, filling up every inch the mall has to offer.Now, still walking and within one hundred feet from my destination I can begin to hear the music radiating from within, over powering the mall's choice of songs.Getting closer to the store I can now see the blue awnings over each window and the words Abercrombie & Fi tch that rest just above the oak boarded glass doors.Before entering the store I take time to examine the newest styles that clothe the mannequins in the windows.From here I can easily hear each lyric of the song that echoes out the store, I am intimidated.After giving myself an idea of what there is to buy I proceed into Abercrombie. Now inside and completely intimidated by my surroundings, I do my best to get what I want and get out.Unfortunately that is not as easy as I had planned.The music is disorienting, coming very loudly from all angles, and I have not the slightest clue as to who is behind me or what he or she is saying.Then I begin to realize how bright the environment is, and I can actually feel the heat of the bulbs on the back of my neck.Feeling completely uncomfortable and out of place, I take a look around to observe how others are acting in the same situation.Peering around, I see primarily all teenagers who look identically like the mannequins on the tables.Every guy is tall, handsome, and dressed perfectly and all the girls are slender, pretty, and again dressed in the latest fashion.Now that I have developed an inferiority complex, I try to take my eyes off the people and onto the merchandise.Browsing around I see the countless stacks of perfectly folded pants covering every wall, and every swe ater, button-down, t-shirt, and hooded sweatshirt meticulously placed into stacks of ten or twelve.